Hunting Game
by FoxFury333
Summary: The Hunt is supposed to be an exhilarating experience. A moment where the heart beats faster, the breath explodes, and the blood boils. A instant where everything comes together onto a needle fine point. For the hunters, it feels like anything is possible. Yet what is it like for the hunted? Zootopia is about to find out...


Darkness…

An icy black veil for many mammals. Inky swirling circles of non-colour, of patches of nothingness behind the stark contrasting comfort of light. Why would you want to slink with quick and hurried movements into that shadowy realm, into a place of mystery and danger, to simply look out again with glazed eyes shining the glowing light of a better place? Surely it was madness, to leave the point of society today, light at will, and disappear into the murk of that anti-light, to vanish from reason and sense in all entirety.

It seemed crazy, something that only those from Cliffside would ever do.

But many mammals did. Darkness was a thing of perception. If you lived your life in it, didn't your eyes just adjust? Activities, things that were best left out of the spotlight, became far easier in the shadows. Murder, blackmail, kidnapping. They were just some of the things that infected the darkness, giving that blackness a toxic purple hue. These mammals treated the dark as a shroud, as a cover, a cloak, to carry out their wishes in privacy and peace. It was the perfect disguise. How could you be brought down if you were never seen? Darkness, to them, became a friend.

Yet there were those who treaded the grey line between.

It was a thin tightrope, spread between geometric walls far apart. All they held on one side was a clasm of ink, seeping deeper and deeper into the gloomy distance below. And the other was a pool of incandescent light, brilliantly bright. The tightrope stretch out over the divide, aligned atop the two warring sides. 'The Path of Grey'. That was what the select few knew it as. A near impossible challenge. Walk the wire. For life. If you could pull it off?

The best of both worlds was yours for the taking. Just keep putting one paw in front of the other. Keep walking forward, not straying into the dark or the light. And you could do anything! A fox had known that path once. Followed it to the letter, day in, day out. But times had changed. The light had claimed him, pulled him from his tightrope, rid him of his precariously balanced position. He had gone.

Yet the dark and light waged their war still, pushing back and forth, messing with the lives of all to subdue the other. It had been going on for centuries, millenia. And would continue for eternities to come. Would one ever win? It couldn't be known...

But today, darkness would make its next move.

And it was a move that might just eradicate the light of Zootopia forever...

* * *

The headlines were the first thing that many mammals saw in the morning. Rising from their slumber, fur matted and sticking out at odd angles, they would plod around their homes, flicking switches and thumping remotes with tired motions. Sleep might yet still be plastered across their faces as the first words of the morning presenters reached their ears, sprouting the big story of the day. Some may yet still ignore it, turning back to observe some other activity of their morning.

But for Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde, it was that moment that sent them spiralling.

"Good morning. Today is the 22nd of July, 764 A.E. Our top story this morning is a number of missing mammals, who have all disappeared within the last day. Current sources are vague, however it seems that the numbers could reach the teens. The last time such an occurrence happened in Zootopia was the Nighthowler case two years ago, resulting in 14 missing mammals under the orders of former Mayor Lionheart. ..."

The news may have droned on after that, promising viewers updates "as soon as they arrived." The ramifications of what was unfolding, even at such an early stage, where facts and figures were obscured in the deep veil of secrecy, weren't lost. This was an eerie rendition of two years previously, where Nighthowlers had ruled the roost for several, heart-stopping months while Zootopia fell towards the grounds of anarchy and mass hysteria. Even now, mammals of all shapes and sizes, from all walks of life, would be sitting on their respectively sized sofas and chairs in their respectively sized homes, staring with blank faces at their screens and radios.

"It could be nothing… It could be nothing…" Both Nick and Judy muttered the words, more to themselves than each other, as their drove with haste towards Precinct One. Both had received the call, an angry Chief shouting into their numb ears to get to his office "NOW!". And now both sat in their somewhat oversized police cruiser, weaving through morning traffic towards the head office of the ZPD. The mantra was the only sound inside the car, broken only by the screeching cry of a muffled car horn in the busy streets of Savannah Central.

Nick was the first to break free from the chanting, looking over to Judy with his classic concealed concern. "Carrots?" He asked slowly, careful to get Judy's attention. "Do you think we're overreacting here?" He gestured around the cruiser, as if to imply the actions the two of them had so far taken inside the car.

"I don't know Nick." Judy replied, deflating as she too stopped her mumbling. "I just keep thinking 'Nighthowler', and… And… Well, I just don't know." She gave a quick glance over to Nick, before quickly snapping her eyes back to the maze of cars, vans and scooters ahead. "I think we just need to calm down, and take this with a level head."

"And stop being such emotional bunnies?"

"Yes, that too Nick." Judy smirked a little, further clearing her mind of the murk that had swarmed it since this morning's news. Nick always knew how to make her feel better.

"Ok, then. Level head." Nick parroted. "What do you think it is?"

"Nothing I hope." Judy replied, shrugging and flapping her grey paws off the cruiser's wheel momentarily. "Just some drunken mammals wanting to create a media stir perhaps, or some teenage misfits that have got bored of life…" She trailed off, looking again to Nick. "What do you think?"

"Me?" Nick asked with mock innocence, before clearing his throat. "I think the media vultures are taking this way too far, trying to cause a public scare of some description. In reality, it's probably nothing. However…" Nick raised a paw, russet fur wiping across Judy's view as he motioned towards the street beyond the glass. "It does seem to be getting us some attention." The cruiser was stuck in a traffic jam, and the stationary car and it's occupants were attracting mammals on the street. As the heroes of Zootopia, the fox and rabbit were always considered minor celebrities. Yet over the years, they had become known to have a knack for solving the hardest of cases in the ZPD.

"In times of crises, look no further than dashing Nicholas Piberius Wilde and his glamorous assistant Judy Laverne Hopps! The best duo in all of Zootopia!" Judy rolled her eyes at her partner's antics, watching from the corner of the eyes as Nick put on his shades, flipping them over his half-lidded gaze. "Yes? Yes! We're right on our way!" Nick was going all out now, paws raised, miming an intense conversation on some imaginary phone. "Don't worry ma'am, your son will be out of that tree in no time! Yes, charges do - Ooff!" The phoney call was cut by a certain bunny's elbow hitting Nick square in the chest, causing his breath to escape him in a explosive puff. "Ouch Carrots." Nick whined, mock hurt evident from beneath his shades. "What was that for?"

"Sly fox." Judy muttered. _Still knows how to do it_ she thought, a smile registering across her muzzle. For how shockingly the day had started, it might just get better. It might, might just be nothing…

Oh how wrong that rabbit was…

* * *

"Two months."

Those two words were all Chief Bogo had to say. They were so simple, yet to the gathered mammals, they meant so much. Precinct one's meeting room was stony silent, a far cry from the usual cheers and catcalls that plagued the atmosphere on a regular basis. Behind the hulking figure of the Chief, the harsh photographs of 48 missing prey mammals stood out against the Zootopian Map, bloody red lines pointing to the last known location of each and every one of them.

Bogo sighed, everyone's attentions darting at once to his wrinkled face. "Two months…" He placed his head in his hooves, his mumbled voice still rising from his blanketed muzzle. "We've been at this for two whole months. City hall is right up my backside to get this case pushed forward. Not to mention that Mayor Necklong has my head on the line…" The chief trailed off, keeping his head down as he again sighed. In a calmer voice, he continued. "The ZPD is stretched to its very limits. And we have…" He took a sharp intake of breath, as if to punctuate his next word. "Nothing! Absolutely zero. Other than this," Bogo lifted away his face, pointing with a single movement towards the map behind him, "we have nothing!"

No one said anything. There wasn't any point. Everyone knew it. For once, the ZPD couldn't seem to get anything to crack this case. At least the Nighthowler incident had something from the very beginning! And even Nick and Judy, sitting in the joint chair in the front row, had hit dead end after dead end. The public were getting scared. That was the main issue. Missing Mammals were fine, until they happened in number. Suddenly, the nighttime streets seemed a lot quieter. Mammals walked with a quickened step, fear lacing their body language as their eyes darted around, looking at everyone. Hate crime had been going through the roof. After the Nighthowler incident, prejudices, especially ones without much backing, had fallen. Yet when the public are in fear, mammals make nasty mistakes. Words were often hurled by prey in the streets, claiming that this was "Predator's Revenge" and that prey must "unite against the common enemy". ZPD's already spread out forces, many tasked with solving what had started to be know as the 'Missing Millions Case', were having a hard time capping the violence that was beginning to spread through the streets.

"Fear always works."

Those words were on a constant loop inside the heads of Judy and Nick. Uttered by Bellwether moments before her plans collapsed before her eyes, they were a sobering reminder of how right she had been. So long as you could create it, fear did the work for you. And with every subsequent abduction of another 12 mammals, they both knew that fear would only grow, until it consumed Zootopia and everything it stood for. Bellwether may well be behind bars, but whoever was doing this had gone further than Bellwether. They were close to bringing the city to its knees. Too close.

And, for all the ZPD's actions, it was the only path…

* * *

Laughter awoke Samuel. It roused him from half-seen dreams, lifted him from the shadowy passageways of his own darkened mind. The pealing notes drifted around his room, reverberating of cold walls as the sheep slowly returned to consciousness. For Samuel however, sleep was a greedy best. It threatened to pull him down again, back into the midnight realm. To just curl up, snuggle up against the soft, furry, gently breathing pillow and -

Wait a minute… Breathing?

Samuel's eyes snapped open, only to stare at a flickering ceiling above him, dripping occasionally with gelatinous globs of water. Above the liquid surface, it seemed stony. Cold and unforgiving. Gazing around, Samuel noted the same rocky face around him on all sides, like -

"A prison Kid"

The voice startled the sheep, and he flung himself backward, only to cower in the corner atop the metal sheet that doubled as the excuse for a bed. He peeped out briefly from between his hooves, noting with shock that his 'pillow' had now sat up and turned with an ancient creak towards him. "Hey, hey Kid." The 'pillow' said softly, reaching out with a gnarled hoof and brushing away the cage Samuel had made. "'Tis alright. Everything's alright." Nodding slowly, the hoof backed away, leaving Samuel to look towards the face of a very old goat, twisted with age. "There we go!" Smiled the goat, gummy and sickly teeth adorning the motion. "Isn't that better?"

Mutely, Samuel nodded a reply, and the goat took it as a sign to continue. "Name's Gerald. Gerald Oldhorn. Name came before… Well all this." He gestured to his form, before holding out a hoof again. "Pleased to meet ya!" Gingerly, Samuel rose his own hoof to meet it, and the two shook a shaky first greeting. Finding his voice, Samuel croaked a reply. "Samuel. Samuel Woolington." The goat cracked a smile at that. "Woolington eh? Funny how the names always seem to get to ya." At Samuel's blank response, the goat's smile broadened, before he added: "But ya do make a mighty fine pillow, Mr Woolington!" Samuel blushed beneath his white fur, which didn't do much to his his embarrassment. "I thought I'd be using you Sir. I mean, I was certainly sure you were my pillow at first…"

"Nah! We've been taking it in turns ya see." Gerald chuckled, a raspy, wheezy sound. "And do call me Gerald, Kid. Don't want to sound older than I am, after all…"

Samuel smiled weakly, his attentions moving away from the goat and back to the decrepit stone tomb he seemed to be in. A single door marked the way in and out, a torch outside causing the flickering of the room. Without much better to do, Samuel climbed off of the metal, which clanged as he moved towards the doorway.

"Locked. Well, it was worth a shot." Samuel muttered, before grabbing at the bars. He pulled himself up to peek out through the door, clearly designed for a larger mammal to fit through too. From his limited field of vision, he could see the oddly medieval sight of a torch sitting in an iron brazier. Apart from that, the corridor appeared to slip into gloom, damp stone walls reflecting the feeble illumination. Samuel sighed, pulling away from the bars and dropping back down into the cell, before turning to face Gerald, who was yet to move from the 'bed'.

"Where are we?" Samuel asked slowly. Gerald only shrugged, before adding: "I came here with you Kid. We woke up together. I know no more than you do…" It was the answer that Samuel had been expecting, yet it still drove a cold needle of emotion into his heart. He didn't know where he was. Where his family was…

His family!

Samuel nearly broke down then. He almost let tears fall down his muzzle to mingle and dance with the slime that glistened on the floor. The thought of his family, wondering and questioning where their little mammal had got too. It was too much. His younger sister would be distraught. What would the ZPD do? They had bigger cases on their plate…

 _No!_ A voice shouted inside his head. _You will not give up. Don't you dare give the monsters that have trapped you have that satisfaction! If you give up now, you may never see your family again. Do you want that?_

"No."

 _I said: Do you want that!_

"No! No, I don't!"

Gerald looked up in surprise at Samuel's outburst, and seeing the hard resolve in his chestnut eyes, gave another toothless grin. "That's the spirit Kid." He called. "Didn't put ya down for a cry-lamb myself, never doubted ya'd pull through and get ya act together!" He waved a hoof, beckoning Samuel back towards him. "I've been through alot Kid. Seen some… Tough things. But I promise ya, on an old goat's word, I will help you, and we will try our hardest to get out a' here. What is it that bunny cop said on the news a few years ago?"

The question was an obvious one, especially to a mammal like Samuel. He'd first grown up told that he'd never, ever be more than what he was. That had been drilled into him from the moment he first looked at Zootopia with eyes full of wonder and hope. Yet the Nighthowler incident had changed that for the better. Mammal Inclusion was all the rage, and sheep had more and more opportunities. All thanks to the bunny cop.

"Try." Samuel said, looking at the goat. "We will try."

"That's the spirit! Now - "

Gerald was cut off by a abrupt flare of noise that leapt from a tinny and concealed speaker somewhere in the ceiling. A fanfare of trumpets rung their song around the cell, quickly reaching a crescendo accompanied with the beat of drums and the wails of horns. Samuel and Gerald looked at each other in shock as the musical barrage continued, blasting notes that seemed to shake the very room. Yet, as suddenly as the chorus had started, it silenced into a crackling static, which floated momentarily before a voice, fake and electronic through the speakers, began to talk.

"Welcome." The voice began. "I hope you've all enjoyed your stay so far with me here. I regret to inform you that, for some, that time of rest and relaxation will soon be coming to a bitter end." Samuel, in his state of seemingly perpetual fear and shock, scoffed at the claim. He'd been awake just five minutes, and it was already obvious that was far from true. "You're removal from the city has had the response we've been hoping for. Phase Two will begin soon, so I advise you to keep your strength up and rest. As I said, you will undoubtedly need it." Another splutter of static marked the end of the cryptic message, and Samuel looked towards the face of Gerald, who seemed to be mirroring his own opinions on the subject.

"Ridiculous! How can they expect us to go along with whatever they want eh? It's not like me family is going to cough up a ransom anytime soon or the like. And another thing…" Gerald went on rambling, his monologue occasionally punctuated by a hacking cough or wheeze. Yet Samuel wasn't listening. He had closed his eyes. Over the years, he had learnt that letting his thoughts drift was the best way of calming down. And a calm mind was what he was going to need to figure out this predicament. And besides, Samuel had seen enough 008 and Mission Possible films to know that following along with the dastardly bad guy's plans was often the best cause of action when you didn't know anything. So… Calmness claimed him, gently washed and buffeted by the drone of Gerald's words…

* * *

For the second time, Samuel was awoken in a hurry. The squealing grind of the door pierced the very air as it slowly opened. It revolved on slick hinges, yet it still cut into the stone beneath like a savage beast clawing again and again at the walls of it's cage. Behind the opening portal, silhouetted as a dark shadow against the spluttering flame, which now seemed far dimmer, as though even it didn't want to make itself known to whatever mammal now stood there. Heavy-set and towering, the figure was an infallible pillar holding up a grand pagoda. Yet cloaked in mystery and a veil of darkness, the mammal's identity remained a unknown for the sheep and goat. Samuel lifted back from the wall he'd be leaning against, glancing at Gerald out of the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction. From the anger across his face, they had both reached the same conclusion. This was the mammal who had caused their troubles so far. Steely eyed, they both watched and waited for the mammal to make themselves known.

"Good evening." The voice began. It was an exact replica of the tone that had been projected out of the hidden speaker, tininess and all. At once, Samuel knew that it wasn't a real voice. It was too perfect, too synthetic. It had no motion, no variation. It was a flat monotone. Completely emotionless. Coupled with the fact that it sounded electronic, Samuel decided that it was a machine producing the noises that emulated from this mammal's throat, and not the true tones of some natural and biological counterpart. "I'm here to inform you that you will not be part of tonight's first game. You may rest now, but be sure that you are prepared. This is designed so that your turn…" The figure eyes, even hidden, seemed to bore into both Gerald and Samuel simultaneously, mining to the very cores of their being. "Could come at any time. Food will be served in 20 minutes. Good night."

With that, the figure turned to walk away, preparing to disappear into the shadows that crept with malice towards the single torch. Yet in that moment, Samuel saw the figure for what it was.

Maybe once the figure had been a hulking wolf, in his prime as he prowled through the streets of Zootopia, or some other distant city. Of course, Samuel presumed he was in fact a he. It was impossible to tell. A set of deep gashes, ripped and fraying, had burst open one side of the wolf's face, sealing the eye and slashing down his muzzle. While old wounds, the damage was horrific. Other scratches pockmarked the wolf's exposed fur. Scraps and claw marks seemed to cover every inch, all of Samuel's vision was filled with the red weltering features. Yet by far the most devastating was the wolf's neck, which was torn open. A glimmer of silver caught the flitting light, lodged deep in the gash. Samuel gasped. In all, the wolf was a horrific sight, a creature of battle that now roamed, hungry and desperate in some dark dungeon of a long-lost video game.

Yet this wasn't some virtual world. Samuel was here. Living this nightmare. If he could have gone any whiter through his fur and wool, he would have done. Seeing his face of terror, the wolf laughed, a deep mechanical rash that sent shivers up his spine. The wolf flicked his good eye, bloodshot and crazed.

Then he was gone. The door rattled closed again, sealing Gerald and Samuel back inside their coffin space. Yet the images didn't leave too. Samuel could still picture the sight. Still see the grotesque form.

"Bucket!" He shouted, in between retching gags. Gerald, as shaken as Samuel, grabbed the flimsy blue plastic and shoved it under Samuel's muzzle as he ejected his last meal. Mushy spaghetti and quorn meatballs splashed into the bucket. Gerald held it they, steadying his hooves as he patted Samuel on the back.

"It'll be alright Kid. It'll be fine. Remember, try…"

But Samuel didn't hear him. In between the splashes, he could only think about one thing…

 _I'm trapped. In a dungeon. With some horrific, bloodcurdling monster baying telling me to prepare for something, something… Not good._

 _How did I get into this mess?!_

* * *

 **Well...**

 **Hi... Some of you may know me, and to those that do, I first must apologise for, well, my other attempts. I seriously hope I don't repeat that. If, however, you don't know me, you may completely ignore that previous sentence...**

 **Welcome to Hunting Game. A Zootopia FanFic that I hope will really come into it's own. I have plans for this series, and I hope you enjoy the paths I weave for you, brave reader. This could be getting dark (well, isn't it already), which is something I personally love to write. Apart from that... Well, I'm going to leave** ** _you_** **in the dark there! As always, comments are greatly appreciated, and I hope you'll stick with me, into the untamed regions of Zootopia's world of Darkness...**

 **Have I said too much?**

 **-Fox**


End file.
